


by the force

by newt_scamander



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Daddy Kink, Force Ghosts, Gen, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Padawan Braids, Poor Obi-Wan, learners braid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6249313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newt_scamander/pseuds/newt_scamander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The braid fell to the ground and he kicked it away, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell freely as thought of Qui Gon, lost to him forever. He would never feel his touch, his kiss. </p><p>“I am not so utterly erased, Obi Wan.” Qui Gon’s voice, unchanged even in death, radiated through the room and sent a chill down Obi Wan’s back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by the force

It wasn’t wholly uncommon. 

If it was, Obi Wan felt fairly certain Qui Gon would have continued their activity, just far less conspicuous. Fewer glances, more awareness of their hands. As it was Qui Gon’s hands rested on Obi Wan’s back or his hip or with his fingers slotted between Obi Wan’s. Yoda nor Windu protested but Obi Wan knew they worried for the obvious attachment between the pair. 

“We must be more careful.” Obi Wan insisted, the seriousness only vaguely tainted by the fervor in his movements as he pushed Qui Gon’s robes off his shoulders and watched as they fell to the floor, joining all of Obi Wan’s garments. “The masters are aware of this, surely.” 

“And yet, they have done nothing to interfere.” Qui Gon whispered, pulling his apprentice against his body and nuzzling against his neck. 

“Perhaps they are biding their time.” Obi Wan suggested, crooking his head to the side to allow Qui Gon’s more than thorough ministrations, his tongue sucking over faded marks and his teeth sealing them. His skin was soft beneath the layer of stubble he had acquired while convalescent and it made Obi Wan’s breath hitch far more suddenly than he could’ve imagined to feel Qui Gon’s fingers slip over his hips and brush over his thighs, his cock leaking eagerly. 

“Biding their time for what, Padawan?” Qui Gon asked, dropping his pants. 

Obi Wan shook his head, pressing against Qui Gon’s free hand. “Don't know, don't know Master.” He said quickly. 

“Do you know where you want this?” He asked, taking Obi Wan’s steadily leaking cock and pumping in time with his own. 

“Oh- master-” Obi Wan grabbed his arms, nearly collapsing onto him as Qui Gon teased him. 

“Answer me, Obi Wan.” Qui Gon insisted. 

“You know. Please. Please, Master.” Obi Wan begged, rocking his hips into his hand. 

“Please what?” Qui Gon asked, delighting in the waves of euphoria he sensed off his padawan. 

“Daddy-daddy, please.” Obi Wan begged. 

“Come here.” Qui Gon picked him up, pressing him against the wall. He wound his arms about his copiously bruised thighs and spread his legs, teasing his entrance. 

“Oh, please.” The padawan tried to bounce but found himself held quite sturdily. “Please, please daddy.” He looked up at Qui Gon, biting his lip. “Need you.” 

Qui Gon helped him onto his cock, seating him fully. Obi Wan squirmed at the discomfort, undoubtedly feeling very full. Qui Gon couldn't help but roll his hips up, watching Obi Wan gasp and whimper. “Still so good for me, so perfect.”

Obi Wan flushed all the way down his chest, leaning away from the wall and changing the angle entirely. He gasped, squirming as Qui Gon rocked up steadily. “Please, Master. Need you, please.” He begged, wrapping his arms around Qui Gon’s neck and burying his face there. “Please, touch me.” 

“Where has my oh so composed proper Padawan gone?” Qui Gon inquired, teasing his thumb over Obi Wan’s length. 

“Up your ass.” He whimpered, rolling his hips desperately. 

“Up yours.” Qui Gon chuckled. 

“No need to be politically correct.” Obi Wan whispered, kissing his jaw. 

“Suppose not.” Qui Gon agreed, pinning his wrists to the wall. He reached out with the Force, tendrils tightening ever so slightly around Obi Wan’s throat. 

Obi Wan gasped, angling his head up vainly. “Daddy.” He choked out, his hips rocking erratically. 

Qui Gon shivered, pulling him up only to let him fall again, fully seated. He lost control of the Force and the moan that left his lips was pure animal as he spilled inside of Obi Wan. The boy lasted only a moment longer, coming messily all over Qui Gon’s chest. 

Qui Gon collected him in his arms, gently removing himself. He made no attempt to clean either of them up but sat down on the bed and let Obi Wan arrange himself in his lap and nuzzle his head into his neck. 

“Good night, Obi Wan.” Qui Gon whispered, rubbing his hip. 

“Nigh’.” Obi Wan yawned, his hand clutching a lock of Qui Gon’s hair. 

 

After that night, the counsel was the last of their worries. 

They were dispatched the very next morning to the Trade Federation’s blockade, the diplomatic plan being thrown out the window the moment Gunray gave the order to attack. They fled to Naboo where they ended up taking on passengers and more intensified Jedi duties, including watch for Qui Gon and piloting assistance for Obi Wan. They hardly slept and they never had a chance to crawl into bed together, especially once they picked up the Skywalker boy. And the Queen- the handmaiden all along- created rather a lot more problems when she gave the order to flee back to Naboo. That was the end of it all, for Obi Wan and Qui Gon. 

 

Train him, Qui Gon had plead, clutching Obi Wan’s robe. When Obi Wan agreed, saying most anything to try and calm his wounded master, his gaze moved to the learners braid. Obi Wan felt a shiver as his fingers brushed over it for the last time. 

Later, when the last embers of the pyre had finally gone cold and Anakin had been put to bed Obi Wan went to the room he and Qui Gon had shared only once. He saw his reflection in a length of polished silver and felt his stomach jolt. He didn't look different. He looked the same he had when he woke up, still a Padawan, still Qui Gon’s. But he wasn't. Not anymore. 

He activated his lightsaber, holding his learner’s braid to the side. He cut it, as Qui Gon should have. He was a master now, something he had longed for since he was a boy younger than Anakin. 

The braid fell to the ground and he kicked it away, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell freely as thought of Qui Gon, lost to him forever. He would never feel his touch, his kiss. 

“I am not so utterly erased, Obi Wan.” Qui Gon’s voice, unchanged even in death, radiated through the room and sent a chill down Obi Wan’s back. 

“Qui Gon?” He whispered. 

And there he was. Erie, green almost. But there. There was no trace of the mark that had killed him and Obi Wan longed to touch him. He rushed forward and for a moment he could feel him, his beard, his fingers. Then it was gone. 

“I am here, as I have always been. When you have need of me you must only clear your head and you will find me.” Qui Gon said steadily. 

“I will always have need of you.” Obi Wan promised. 

“Then you will always have me.” He did not chastise him, nor did he remind him of his duties. He allowed this emotion, because he could. He was gone now, away from the touch of the counsel. He could care for Obi Wan without restrictions. 

Obi Wan nodded and climbed into the bed. Qui Gon’s ghost did the same, though he could not lift the blankets. He sat on the bed though, and Obi Wan fitted himself to his curves and laid pillows to create a form. Qui Gon watched and wished as he settled into the bed, closing his eyes. 

“Good night, Obi Wan.” 

“Night, Qui Gon.”

**Author's Note:**

> for my girlfriend, as always. 
> 
> I read about Qui Gon being able to retain his consciousness and that coupled with a post about Obi Wan's learner's braid being cut by not-Qui Gon and I just kinda... did this? Hope you enjoy!!


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